


Just This Once

by ThisShallNeverBeMentioned



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisShallNeverBeMentioned/pseuds/ThisShallNeverBeMentioned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Homesickness isn't always for a place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just This Once

 

It was 2am when Gavin tracked Michael down, sitting amongst a sleepy group around the fire. Plastic plates and cups and most of the empty beer bottles were gathered by the cooler in some semblance of order, though there were bottle caps littered everywhere, not to mention the burnt and melted bits of food (mostly marshmallows) in sticky clumps in the grass. The clean up would be hell.

“I want to go home.” Gavin said quietly.

  

Michael looked up from the couch he was sprawled on, beer in hand, half his face lit by the dying fire. “So go.”

Gavin shifted from foot to foot, and finally seated himself awkwardly on the arm of the couch.

“Ray’s staying.” He said, like it was a complete explanation.

Michael rolled his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked drowsily.

“He won’t let me borrow his car.”

“So you think I’d let you take mine?”

Gavin’s lower lip pulled up in a small pout. Michael sighed and took another swig of his beer, turning his attention back to the group. He couldn’t quite focus on the conversation, but his eyes followed whoever was talking and he just enjoyed the heat on his face.

There was a light touch on his ankle, and he looked around again. Gavin was looking at him, fingers trailing on the skin between his jean leg and sock.

“What.” Michael asked flatly.

“Michael,” Gavin drew out his name. “Please?”

“Just stay here the night.” Michael rolled his shoulders. “Someone’ll take you home in the morning.”

“Technically, it  _is_  morning.”

“Gavin. No.”

His hands went to Michael’s ankle again, pulling his foot upwards to rest on his thigh. Michael prepared himself to kick out - and hopefully dump the Brit off the couch and on his ass - but then Gavin pressed his fingers into the sole of his foot, sock and all. He rotated his thumbs in little circles, a gentle touch, and retreated from the ticklish spots that made Michael twitch, working out the little knots that Michael hadn’t known were there. He opened his eyes, unsure when he had closed him, and met Gavin’s eyes. They reflected the firelight, and his nose cast a shadow over the side of his face. There was a strange expression on Gavin’s face, still a pout, mixed with the staring.

“What are you trying to do, seduce me into giving you my keys?” Michael asked, smirking.

Gavin smiled. “Maybe.”

“It’d take a bit more than a foot massage.” Michael said with a chuckle that dissolved into a yelp when two seconds later Gavin attacked his foot, successfully finding every ticklish spot he’d avoided so carefully before. The conversation around the fire dissolved into laughter as Michael scrambled upright with a string of curses, kicking his foot free of Gavin’s grasp. He shoved him, and Gavin lurched off the couch, just managing to find his feet and stand a foot out of reach.

“Hands off, Grabbin.” Michael hissed.

Gavin pulled a hurt face and Michael almost missed it when he murmured, “I just want to go home.”

Michael ran a hand over his face with a sigh, and stood up, slipping his feet into his shoes. He gave a vague wave to the people around the fire and began walking around the side of the house towards the street. Gavin caught up with him, confusion mixed with relief and gratitude on his face.

“Have you had a drink tonight?” Michael asked.

Gavin shook his head. “Only a couple, at the beginning of the night.” He replied. “I’ve been having water since eleven.”

“Fine.” Michael said. They walked down the street to Michael’s car, the sound of the toned down party following them. He got into the passenger seat and pulled on his seatbelt, Gavin watching him as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Put your seatbelt on, idiot.” Michael instructed as he handed over the keys. Gavin blinked at them once and took them, turning on the car and quickly clipping his own seatbelt.

“I’m not letting you drive my car without me.” Michael said in answer to Gavin shooting yet another confused look at him.

“Why?” the question sounded surprised.

“Because I don’t trust you not to total my car, dipshit.”

Gavin snort-laughed and pulled out onto the quiet road. The beauty of a late night road was the almost deserted nature, save for the odd cop car or taxi. There were ice crystals misting the windows and windscreen, and Gavin fumbled for a second with the controls, turning the high beam headlights and indicators off and on a few times. They slowed to a crawl.

“I can’t find the windscreen wipers.” He announced, squinting through the windshield.

“Oh my god.” Michael deadpanned. “I’m gonna die drunk in my car being driven by an English idiot at twenty miles an hour.” He reached over and flicked the wipers on. “Better be careful or we’ll spring a leak in the headlight fluid and blow ourselves up.”

 ---

Somehow, half an hour later, Gavin parked Michael’s car on the street below his apartment. He’d managed to take three wrong turns, driving them in the opposite direction before he recognised where he was and turned around only to get stuck on a one-way road.

Michael retrieved his car keys from Gavin the instant they pulled up, telling him he was never driving again, and followed him upstairs to the Brit’s apartment. Gavin let them in, visibly relaxing as he hung up his jacket and kicked off his shoes. He got them both a glass of water and disappeared into the bathroom. Michael made himself at home on the couch, putting his wallet and keys on the coffee table so they wouldn’t dig into him.

Gavin emerged; wet hair and pajama clad, and looked Michael over.

“Don’t you want a shower?”

“I’ll have one in the morning before I go.” Michael said with a yawn. “And don’t fucking say  _it’s already morning_.” He warned when Gavin opened his mouth. “You’ve dragged me here against my will, just because you were homesick at a party, and almost killed us on the way, so don’t test me.”

Gavin wrinkled his nose. “But you smell of smoke.” He protested.

“ _Really_.”

One look at Gavin’s face was enough. Michael groaned and rolled to his feet; he couldn’t be bothered to argue. “Some host you are.” He muttered.

Gavin was gone and back a moment later with a towel and clothes that Michael assumed were spare clothes for him to sleep in. He glowered at Gavin’s happy smile as he headed for the bathroom.

He wouldn’t tell Gavin, wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction, but a shower was just what he had needed. The hot water relaxed his shoulders and yeah, he felt better when he didn’t reek of fire smoke. He even scrubbed his teeth with toothpaste on his finger.

The slightly too small tracksuit pants and pub brand shirt weren’t as appreciated. They smelt like Gavin, and he felt a bit weird in the borrowed clothes, not just because of the size difference.

The grin on Gavin’s face when he saw him didn’t help either.

“Well now I don’t smell, right?” Michael asked rhetorically, gesturing to himself. “So if there isn’t anything else, your majesty, I’ll be going to bed. Couch.” He corrected himself, and turned to the living room.

“Wait!” the little protest made him stop.

When he turned back to look at him, Gavin was scratching absently at one of his arms, biting his lip. He jerked his head in the direction of his bedroom.

“Bed.” He said quietly.

Michael quirked his eyebrow. Gavin shrugged uncomfortably, eyes cast down and shifting around.

“Blame it on the homesickness?” he said with a small chuckle.

“What,” Michael raised his eyebrows with a little tilt of the head. “You need a teddy bear to fall asleep or something?”

Gavin gave a small smile. “Banjo bear.” He said hopefully.

And hell, he looked like such a kid standing there, bright eyes and mussed hair, arm across his body shyly, that Michael couldn’t help the fond laughter he let out. He nodded, and Gavin’s face lit up like a kid’s on Christmas, and he darted to his bedroom ahead of Michael.

“Just this once, alright?” Michael said, amused, following Gavin. His bedroom was fairly neat, bar the fallen stack of video games and various hard drives on the floor by his desk.

As Gavin quickly remade the double bed, pulling the sheets and blanket up into place, Michael watched the slight broadening of his back from his waist up to his shoulders. When he turned slightly to retrieve a second pillow, his shirt pulled and revealed briefly the fuzz of hair along Gavin’s stomach. A kid at heart, Michael though, but definitely not physically. The weird feeling that came when Michael had first put on Gavin’s clothes hit him again, twisting his stomach.

Gavin appeared satisfied with his bed making effort, and practically skipped as he went to turn off the hall light and then the bedroom light by his door. Now only the bedside lamp lit the room. The sudden dimness seemed to make Gavin pause in sudden stillness, his breathing quiet as he stood near Michael.

Michael rolled his shoulders and crossed the room, climbing into the bed. He left the sheets turned down as he settled onto a pillow, and looked over at Gavin still standing by the light switch.

“Well, come on then.” Michael nodded at the pillow beside him. “You were the one making all the demands.” He reminded him.

Gavin shook his head, jumping back to life, and walked over to the bed, hesitating a second before lying down, slipping his feet under the covers and drawing them up almost to his chin. He looked at Michael with eyes too wide and Michael got that flash of kid-not-a-kid and the weird stomach tightening again. What was that even? Protectiveness?

They were lying side by side, both on their backs, heads turned to look at each other. Michael yawned pointedly, waiting for Gavin to turn off the light so they could sleep. Gavin’s mouth turned up at one side in an apologetic smile before he rolled onto his side, not to turn off the light, but to face Michael. One arm tucked into his side as the other reached across Michael’s chest to grasp him lightly, his head nestled against Michael’s shoulder and one leg crooked slightly over to weave between Michael's.

“Do you mind?”

“…Nah.”

Gavin shuffled slightly, adjusting, and then sighed happily, and Michael couldn’t help another laugh escaping.

“Jeez, you’re like a fucking cat.” He chuckled, moving his arm so he was holding Gavin’s shoulder.

Gavin fake-purred in response.

Michael smiled and reached over to switch off the bedside lamp, settling his arm back down around Gavin.

“Do you get homesick much?” he asked into the darkness.

He felt Gavin shrug.

“Yes and no.” he replied, his voice vibrating against Michael’s collarbone. “Sometimes I miss it a lot, like the cool when it’s too hot in Texas, or the green, or mucking about with Dan for a SloMo.” Michael can feel Gavin’s breathing hitch in a laugh. “But it’s not too bad, cause I know I’ll be back there in a couple of months for a visit, and when I’m there I’ll start missing here.”

They lie in silence for a bit, Michael absently starting to play with the hair at the back of Gavin’s head just to let him know he hasn’t drifted off. That he’s listening, since that’s what Gavin seems to need right now.

“… I miss things differently when I’m in England.” Gavin continues. “I never really miss the heat, but I miss swimming, and wearing shorts, and the office. I miss putting Geoff off when he’s doing an AHWU. Sometimes I don’t want to watch the videos of the weeks when I’m gone, cause if I see everyone I’ll just start missing them more.”

Michael cleared his throat. “You ever not able to sleep in England? Like this?”

“Mmnnnm.”

“That’s not an answer, that’s one of your weird sounds.”

“Yes and no.”

Michael waits, but Gavin doesn’t speak again. He pokes the back of the Brit’s head and Gavin shifts his curled up position, head now moved to Michael’s pillow but tilted nose down towards his shoulder.

“So what’s the yes and no to being sleepless in England?” Michael prompts after a pause.

There’s the sound of lips moving, of the air escaping, but he can’t hear the words Gavin says.

“Huh?”

Gavin sighs exasperatedly and his head lifts till his forehead is leaning on Michael’s cheek and his mouth is close enough to his ear to hear as he says, “Michael.”

“Yeah?”

There’s silence, Michael waiting for Gavin to continue. He thinks about how Gavin’s like a hot water bottle, lanky frame curled up to him and pressed against him. Head to head, shoulders and torsos touching, feet and legs tangled, arms around each other. Almost like the times Michael tackles Gavin into submission on the office floor, bar the usual arm under his chin in a headlock or hand covering his mouth. Now, he actually wants to hear what Gavin has to say. In the dark, late night (early morning) in Gavin’s bed, Gavin’s apartment, Gavin’s clothes. His stomach twists.

Michael becomes aware that Gavin is breathing very shallowly, short controlled breaths that hit his neck. Michael suppresses a shiver – his neck is kind of sensitive – and lightly scratches the back of Gavin’s head.

“Gavin? What’s up? Why’d you stop talking?” he questions.

The Brit sniffs and for a second Michael wonders wildly what’s happened, but then Gavin says, “I can’t sleep in England because of  _this_ , Michael.” And his voice isn’t sad but slightly reproachful.

“The fuck? You can’t sleep in England because you get homesick for England?” Michael asks with a frown. He’s missing something, but his mind’s tired from the late hour and remaining alcohol in his system and he’s not able to connect Gavin’s strange way of talking.

Gavin sighs again, breath against Michael’s neck – he can’t help shivering this time – and then his mouth is resting at the join between neck and shoulder and Michael draws in a sharp breath. It’s not even a kiss; his mouth is just there, lips closed against his skin.

And Michael runs through all of what Gavin’s said, trying to make sense of it, and he wonders how his  _name_ could possibly be an answer to “yes and no” and not a request to listen.  _Michael_. It’d be a jump, leaving half the conversation unsaid, as Gavin is known to do, two steps ahead but misunderstood and taken to be two steps behind. The reason he can’t sleep in England, can’t watch the videos, misses everyone, can’t sleep because of  _this_  and not because of being homesick, because he misses something that hadn’t even happened before tonight.

_Because of this, Michael._

He unfreezes, lets his fingers continue roving lightly over the back of Gavin’s neck. Gavin removes his mouth from Michael’s shoulder with another quiet sigh, presses his lips lightly higher up his neck, and yeah,  _that’s_  a kiss, and then another follows, lips parted this time against Michael’s skin, breath hot. More shivers. His fingers slide up into Gavin’s hair, along his scalp. Gavin breathes slowly, and it almost sounds like before when he pretended to purr. Michael turns his head to the side; there’s enough light to reflect and show that Gavin’s eyes are open as well, wide and cautious.

Another twist in his stomach, and he puts a small amount of pressure on the back of Gavin’s head. Encouragement, not force.

 

Gavin’s eyes close before his lips brush Michael’s, but Michael watches his face, the slight crease of concentration between Gavin’s eyebrows. He watches the mix of rapture and lust when he presses back with his own mouth. Though when Gavin lets out a soft moan and runs his tongue over Michael’s bottom lip he has to close his eyes and flip his whole body so he can wrap both arms around Gavin. He grabs at one of Gavin’s legs, who happily obliges in wrapping it up around Michael’s waist so Michael can press  _his_  leg up between Gavin’s. He drags himself closer, trying to fold every inch of himself around Gavin, who in turn is running his hands up along the inside of his borrowed shirt and along his back. Michael’s hips shift forward and it’s hot, hot as he grabs Gavin’s ass to press and rock against him. The groan Gavin lets out goes through Michael’s mouth and there’s that pressure in his stomach, lower, suddenly making sense.

Then they’re slowing, gripping less fiercely, but still wrapped closely around each other. The kiss grows long, languid, and becomes a series of light sips at each other’s mouths.

Gavin ducks his head and presses a couple more open mouthed kisses against Michael’s neck, and Michael pulls his face up with a shiver for one more kiss. He presses his closed lips to Gavin’s and pulls away, watches Gavin’s eyes open.

They stare at each other, feeling each other breathing, panting heavily.

“So much for sleeping.” Gavin croaks out, clears his throat. Michael can see the flush along his cheekbones even in the dark.

“If you actually want to sleep, maybe I  _should_  go sleep on the couch.” Michael says jokingly, chuckling when Gavin pulls a face.

“I don’t mind  _this_  kind of not sleeping.”

“Who needs to count sheep when you can count teeth, right?”

“So shut up and kiss me again, you doughnut.”

“Just this once.” Michael warns. “We do have work in a couple of hours.”

Gavin murmurs, “In the morning.” and kisses him so softly and teasingly, one hand lightly tickling the back of Michael’s neck.

He can’t help the frustrated groan when Gavin pulls away too soon, a cheeky look on his stupid face.

“Just once more.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm slowly uploading a lot of old fics from my tumblr, bear with me :)


End file.
